


Some May Say (Love Without Touching)

by capforgetful



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha!Bucky, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bonding, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Cuddles, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Omega!Steve, Omegaverse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tags to be added as needed, Violence, is that too much to ask?, is there a happy ending??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-07 00:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11047302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capforgetful/pseuds/capforgetful
Summary: Steve is an omega, headstrong and loud, too firm in his beliefs, and doesn't know how to back down from a fight. Navigating the world as an omega (and not a very good one) is one of the harder things Steve's had to do. But Bucky has always been his support system, even if Steve didn't belong to him.And then the war.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve stood over the stove and pushed at the pot of soup with the end of a spoon. His body felt shivery and sensitive, hot like the beginnings of a fever.

It was around time for his heat again. Steve wished he had some way to hide it, some way he could just get through it without Bucky noticing and insisting on taking two days off work to get him through the worst of it.  

Steve felt awful, because while he would never ask his friend to do it if he hadn’t volunteered, he also really, really needed those times when Bucky’s hands on him were all he could feel. Even outside of the racing hormones, the thought of Bucky holding him to his chest helped calm him.

_ But first, _ Steve thought, listening to the door open and the floorboards creak as Bucky stopped to yank off his boots,  _ we have to deal with him being annoyed. _

“You making food?” Bucky asked, coming around the corner and staring at the pot on the stove. “Have I told you you’re my favorite?” He came into the kitchen and leaned over to look into the pot.

He paused and turned toward Steve. “Are you …?” His brow furrowed and before Steve could do anything, Bucky ducked his head and pressed his nose to his throat, up under his chin. It was bold and pushy, but Bucky had never had a problem treating Steve like he was  _ his _ .  

Steve made a small, aborted sound, and didn’t dare move.

“God damn it, Steve. You have to give me a few days warning. I  _ know _ you can tell.” Bucky pulled away again and Steve bit his lip, wanting Bucky to come back, and wanting Bucky to drop it. Bucky blew out a sigh through his teeth. “I can probably switch a few night shifts with Ed, down at the docks. Which I  _ wouldn’t have to do _ , if you’d just goddamn tell me when you’re having a heat.”

“I told you I don’t want you takin off work for me,” Steve muttered. Bucky didn’t get heat leave; they weren’t married, or partnered, or even a real couple. Aside, most companies would rather just fire you than give you a week off. It wasn’t as if it was hard to find other people willing to work. Bucky always scraped a few days off to spend with Steve, and Steve always told him not to. If  _ Steve _ couldn’t hold down a job, then Bucky’s income was all they had, and Steve already felt bad enough living off Bucky, on top of making him maybe lose his job.

“And I told you that’s too fucking bad.” Bucky reached over Steve and got two bowls, set them on the counter. Steve spooned some soup into each of them, and Bucky took them to the living room.

Steve followed in his wake, feeling like a chastened child, but he was  _ right _ . “Buck, we can’t afford for you to take off work again.”

“Sit down and eat.”

“Bucky.”

“I ain’t missing work, I’m switching my shift.” Bucky grabbed a handful of Steve’s shirt and yanked, tumbling him down onto the couch next to him. He picked up a bowl and shoved it at Steve. “Eat your goddamned dinner.”

Steve took the bowl and started eating. Bucky watched him with narrow-eyed concern, and then relented. “Good.”

Steve felt stupid warm at the praise, and rolled his eyes, ducking his head over his warm bowl.

“Do you  _ want _ to be alone?” Bucky asked after a while. Steve had been staring out the window, studying the way the streetlight filtered in through the window, illuminating the dust in the air.

“No,” he said, a little too quickly. “But I also don’t want to be homeless.”

Bucky was quiet for a while. “We’ll manage,” he said. His tone was different, but Steve didn’t know what it was.

“I know,” Steve agreed. “We always do.” He kicked Bucky’s leg with his, and Bucky’s lips twitched.

“Eat, punk.”

“Yes, mother.”

And then their fight was over. Steve finished eating, and took their dishes to the sink. Bucky tilted his head to watch him, and Steve could feel eyes on his back as he stood at the sink. It made him uncomfortable, but also warm under the scrutiny of—he wasn’t his Alpha.

He wasn’t his Alpha, but he could pretend. At least for right now.

He ducked his head and let himself have a minute of this, and then he called back to Bucky, “You still going with that girl? What’s her name. Alicia or something.”

“Annette, Steve, and you know I am.”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t keep up with your social life.” He didn’t go out with Bucky, and he didn’t like going out in the first place. People usually weren’t outright hostile, but Steve could still feel them staring, and the feeling of displacement wasn’t imagined. He knew it wasn’t. Omegas were typically soft and beautiful and feminine. Men were typically tall and strong and brave.

And then there was Steve, who was none of those things, a broken mix of male and omega, and good at neither of them. 

“Why?” Bucky asked. He had his bare feet resting up on the coffee table, and he looked relaxed and easy. Steve looked away.

“No reason. I liked her.” Annette was a null, but she was pretty and kind, and didn’t look at Steve with pity or expectations.

“Yeah, she’s fine.” Steve couldn’t keep track of Bucky’s mood, and he seemed to be down again, or annoyed. He finished drying the dishes and put them away. 

Bucky asked, “You gonna start tonight?” 

Steve nodded. “Think so. Feels like.” 

Bucky got up and came to Steve, who watched him approach from his spot in the kitchen. He slid his arms around Steve’s waist and leaned his forehead against Steve’s. His hand spanned the entire small of Steve’s back. “Then we should get to bed early. Come on.” 

God, Steve ached when Bucky did that. Held him like he wanted him, like he would stay with him. Steve knew he wouldn’t, but god he wanted.  He nodded and let Bucky push him to the bed, changing their clothes, arranging the blankets and then crawling inside. 

He lay very carefully still until he felt Bucky climb into the bed behind him, and then he relaxed. Bucky made a huffing sound that Steve thought might be a laugh, but he didn’t ask. Bucky rearranged them so Steve’s back was pressed to his chest, and Bucky could wrap his arm around Steve and press his face to his neck. His breath made Steve’s neck feel hot  and sensitive, and he was highly aware of Bucky’s lips almost touching his skin. 

By the way Bucky smiled, Steve didn’t doubt he could tell. 

He squirmed. “I’m not going to sleep if you do that.” 

“Yes you will.” 

Steve squirmed again, but froze when Bucky’s lips pressed against his neck, and then shivered all over. 

“Go to sleep, Stevie.”  

“Buck —”

He didn’t listen, just pulled Steve more firmly to his chest and then turned so Steve was pinned to the bed under the bulk of his frame. Steve gave a small exhale of breath and felt himself relaxing into the feeling despite himself. 

He fell asleep to the feeling of Bucky’s arms wrapped around him.  

When he woke up, he was feverish hot and he could feel slick between his legs. He turned and groaned into the pillow, curling his body around the cramps that were starting in the cradle of his hips.

Bucky was awake immediately, his hands sliding up his back, soothing and cool and strong. Steve melted into the feeling, making small sounds into the pillow. Bucky kissed the back of his neck and pressed himself along Steve’s back. He nudged his knee between Steve’s legs, and Steve shifted to accommodate him, rolling his hips back automatically. Bucky responded, rocking against him gently, already half hard.

“It’s not bad yet,” he mumbled. “I haven’t started.”

“I know,” Bucky said. He leaned over and pressed his face to the side of Steve’s throat, nosing his scent gland and breathing against Steve’s skin. Steve let out a shaky breath. “I can tell when you’ve started,” Bucky said.        

Steve gave a small whine, but just let himself relax into Bucky’s weight on top of him, holding him down and safe, Bucky breathing in his scent and almost-hard just from that.

Steve loved that he could make Bucky like this, even if it was just pheromones. Even if Bucky wouldn’t normally look at him twice. He was here, now, because he wanted Steve. So Steve relaxed and let himself have that, closing his eyes to the feeling of Bucky’s hot breath on his throat, and his hand rubbing circles on his back when Steve hadn’t realized he’d tensed.

The next time he woke up, all he could do was whimper and try to squirm out from Bucky’s weight.

That was all it took for Bucky to sit up, murmuring something Steve didn’t catch, and then big strong warm hands were guiding him, turning him and helping him up onto his knees.

_ “Bucky _ ,” Steve said, and Bucky said, “Shh, I’ve got you.” Steve believed him, and he trusted him, but god if Bucky didn’t move faster, Steve was going to –

He felt fingers pressing inside him, gentle, testing, and it was good, but it wasn’t anything like what he needed. He whimpered again, arching his back and spreading his legs a little more. “Bucky,  _ Bucky, god _ , please.”  

“I know. I know. I’m not gonna hurt you, though. Gotta give me a second.”

Steve groaned and it was mixed with frustration. “Bucky, I need –“ He cut off as Bucky pressed the blunt head of his cock against Steve’s entrance and pushed, stretching and filling until Steve felt like all the breath had been knocked out of him. 

It wasn’t, though. As soon as Bucky moved, he gasped, tangling his fingers in the blankets and rocking into the feeling.

“What did you need?” Bucky asked, and Steve wanted to smack that smug tone out of his voice. 

“Need you to  _ get on with it. _ ” 

Bucky laughed, but then he was kissing the curve where Steve’s neck met this shoulder and he was fucking him.

Steve just moaned into the pillow, still trying to keep quiet, keeping in mind the thin walls. Bucky’s mouth on his neck was burning pleasure, but he’d let up when he bit down hard enough to make Steve cry out, a mix of pleasure-pain that was just short of overwhelming with the way Bucky was fucking him.

“Bucky,” Steve kept saying. “Buck, okay,  _ god, please _ .”

Bucky didn’t answer, just kissed down Steve’s spine a little and shifted his position, finding a different angle that made Steve arch his back and whine. His mouth found the mark he’d made on Steve’s neck again, but he kept the angle, waiting until Steve squirmed and made a small, desperate sound before he reached around and started jerking him off. 

Steve came after a few seconds, and Bucky was unable to help himself.

When they were both finished, Bucky moved them carefully so they were laying down. Steve looked better, less tense, but he squirmed occasionally. Like he was testing the feel of Bucky’s knot inside him.

Bucky stroked his hair until he settled, and then murmured, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Great.” Bucky’s fingers trailed down Steve’s jaw, and then down his neck to trace the mark he’d made. Steve rolled his eyes, but tilted his head so Bucky could see better. “I hope you’re proud of yourself. Everyone can see that.”  

Bucky grinned, wide and sleepy. He nuzzled behind Steve’s ear. “Everyone already heard, so I figured it was a moot point,” he murmured.

Steve shivered and felt himself turning red. “No one heard,” he protested.

“The whole building heard.” 

“Shut up,” Steve muttered. His face felt hot, damn Bucky. “I was being quiet until you started biting.”

Bucky laughed. “Go back to sleep.”

Steve grumbled, but let himself drift off.

The next time he woke up, Bucky wasn’t there.

He could tell immediately, but still he reached his hand out across the empty bed. Just in case. He clenched his eyes shut and wished he could just go back to sleep and ignore the need coursing through him or the panic that rose in his chest at the thought of Bucky not being here. 

He’d told him to go to work, but goddamn, he didn’t think he actually would. He bit his lips and pressed his face to his arms. It was fine. He’d gotten through heats alone before – in the orphanage they’d shut him in and lock the door, and he’d just have to wait it out. It wasn’t pleasant, but he wouldn’t die from not being knotted.

But why would Bucky just leave?

A small sob, muffled in Steve’s arms. He clenched his eyes tighter and curled his hands into fists, trying to stop it. But he couldn’t think very straight, not with the pheromones and hormones and emotions.

So he sobbed and let the heat crash through him like waves of need and want.

After a while, he tried to calm himself down when he felt the familiar ache in his chest and he had trouble drawing breath in. Of course. Of course this was happening right now. He dug his fingers into the sheets, which smelled like Bucky and sex, and pulled all his self-control into taking slower, deeper breaths.

They weren’t very slow, or very deep, but they were less panicked and they weren’t sobs. He still had trouble breathing, his lungs not wanting to cooperate. 

He made himself lay still, carefully drawing in breaths which hurt, and feeling his body throbbing. By the time Steve heard the door open, he’d almost gotten his breathing to sound normal, even if he still wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

The smell of Bucky –  _ Alpha, safe, warm, home,--  _ crashed through Steve’s senses and he made a small sobbing sound, unable to help himself.

“Steve, shit.” The sound of the door closing and a couple of bags hitting the floor, and then Bucky’s hands were on him, smoothing down his back, tilting his head. “You’re supposed to be asleep, I was gonna be back before you needed me, fuck, are you breathing okay?”

Steve shook his head at Bucky’s babbling, and then Bucky was pulling him up, repositioning him on his lap. Steve moved willingly, letting Bucky do what he wanted. “Laying on your front ain’t gonna help your lungs, come here,” Bucky mumbled. It was mostly lost on Steve, but he appreciated the tone and cadence, listening to Bucky’s voice rumble out from his chest like it did when he was worried. He positioned Steve straddling his lap, and Steve tucked his face against Bucky’s throat and closed his eyes. “Alright, just like this. Breathe with me, okay?”

Steve made a frustrated sound and clutched Bucky’s shirt, because he didn’t need to  _ breathe _ he needed –

And then Bucky was pressing two fingers up into him and Steve whined sharply with relief. 

“Breathe,” Bucky reminded, as he fucked Steve with his fingers.

“I’m breathing,” Steve gasped, arching into Bucky. “Knot me.”

“I know, I know.” Bucky positioned himself and pushed into Steve slowly, ignoring Steve’s insistent wriggling. 

He fucked Steve, who clutched his shirt and let out small breaths against his neck. He bit his lip and tried to finish quickly, so he could calm Steve down.  

After a while, he closed his eyes and shuddered, feeling his knot swell and catch, giving a few last thrusts. Steve just moaned softly into his shoulder.

When Bucky had collected himself, he gathered Steve up into his arms and shifted so he was leaning his back against the wall. He could feel Steve struggling to breathe. 

“Okay. How’re you doing?” he murmured, sliding his fingers through Steve’s hair and then down his back. “Slow down and breathe with me.”

Steve’s breath hitched, and then he matched his exhales with Bucky’s. Bucky stayed steady for Steve, occasionally murmuring encouragement. 

It took a while for Steve to get a hold on his breathing again, but finally he murmured, “Where did you go?”

Bucky swallowed. “Went to the docks, to talk about getting a different shift this week. Stopped to get some food, cause we’re low and you need to eat. I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to notice I’d gone.”

“Time is it?” Steve mumbled. He was breathing easier now, but he was exhausted.

“Half-past five am. You usually sleep longer between bouts. I thought I had time.”

“S’fine,” Steve mumbled, because that was Bucky’s guilty voice. “You came back.”

“Of course I came back.”

“Thanks.”

Bucky just went quiet, so Steve drifted off. Just before he was out, he felt a soft kiss to the top of his head. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're deep into the war, but Steve is there with Bucky, and Steve is feeling untouchable for the first time in his life.

Bucky managed the next two days off work, and didn’t leave again until the third day. “It’s just this and then I have my normal day off tomorrow.”

“I know,” Steve said, placating. “I’ll be okay. The worst of it is over.”

Bucky grumbled, but he got up and started getting ready to go. Steve followed him out to the kitchen and started making something to eat.

“What are you doing? Let me do it. Go sit down.”

“Buck, I’ve been sitting for hours. I’m going to need to eat while you’re gone. It’s fine.”

Bucky crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. Steve asked, “Why are you pouting?”

“I’m not pouting.”

Steve rolled his eyes and squirmed his way into Bucky’s arms. Bucky let him, sliding his arms around him gently and hugging him. Steve tilted his head up and pressed his face to Bucky’s neck, breathing in his scent. “I’ll see you tonight,” he mumbled. Bucky held him tighter.

“Yeah, you will. You better eat, and rest.”

“You’re such a mother-hen.” Steve pushed away from him. “Alright. Go.” He nudged Bucky toward the door, and he went.

* * *

 

That week, Bucky made Steve go out with him. He’d brought two girls along – Annette, and one of Annette’s friends, the one unfortunately stuck with him for the evening – and made Steve dress nice and come dancing.

Steve couldn’t dance, mostly just stood off to the sidelines and watched Bucky.

The girl huffed, annoyed at being made to sit on the sidelines. Her name was Tammy, if Steve was remembering right. She had red lips and beautiful dark hair, and Steve couldn’t have been less attracted to her. “Are we going to dance?”

Steve said, “I can’t dance.”

“What, you don’t know how?”

Steve shook his head. “I never learned. Also I think I might pass out.”

She gave him a weird look. “Why are you here?”

“Bucky asked me to,” Steve said, knowing exactly how that worked out for her. “Sorry.”

Tammy shrugged. “Ain’t no skin off my back,” she said. “D’you even like girls?”

Steve felt his stomach squirm. “I, um.”

She shrugged. “I like ‘em enough for both of us, I guess.”

Steve looked at her. “Girls?”

“Omegas, really, but sometimes nulls. It depends, you know?” Steve shook his head slightly. Before he could come up with a response, Tammy continued. “Is he your boy?”

“Bucky?” Steve looked over at him, dancing with Annette and laughing. “No.”

“Why not?”

“What? He doesn’t – He’s not queer.”

Tammy said, “Mhm,” her eyes darting between them like she didn’t believe him.

And then the song must have finished, because Bucky and Annette came back. Annette sat next to Tammy, smiling, and Bucky shoved Steve over in the booth until he had just enough room to sit down. Steve couldn’t bring himself to move away. Their shoulders pressed together, and his thigh was touching Bucky’s. Bucky was smiling, his hair a little wild and he smelled like sweat.

Tammy caught his eye from across the table and raised her eyebrows at him. Steve turned a little red.

* * *

 

America entered the war that month.

Bucky enlisted, and then yelled at Steve for trying to enlist. Steve yelled back, and it was one of the biggest fights they’d had.

The next time Steve enlisted, he lied on the paperwork. Checked “null” instead of “omega”, and changed his name. He never made it far enough into the physical for them to notice that particular lie, and he always left fuming, clutching the rejection in his hand.

He got into more fights than he usually did, and Bucky wasn’t always there to bail him out. But Steve always finished what he started, no matter if it left him with a black eye and bruised ribs.

They spent Bucky’s last night home on a date with Annette and Tammy. Steve wanted to be resentful, but he didn’t have the energy to do anything but go along with what Bucky wanted.

And he guessed he really couldn’t begrudge him wanting to see his girl before he left. Even if Steve did want to lock him in the apartment and never let go of him.  

After a while into it, Steve broke off from the group. Bucky didn’t notice.

He had to try enlisting, at least one more time.  

That time, when Erksine met him and saw through his lies, and gave him a chance anyway, he left, not fuming, and didn’t tell Bucky what had happened.

He probably wasn’t doing a very good job of pretending to have a good time, though. Tammy could tell. She kept giving him sad looks, which Steve stoically ignored. A couple hours into it, Tammy nudged Annette and told her she felt sick and wanted to go home. Annette gave her an irritated glance, but eventually gave in. They left, and Steve glanced at Tammy’s back as she walked off, wondering how to thank her.

Bucky sighed, and then they went home.

They were quiet, the tension between them settling thick and suffocating. Steve wanted to break it, but he didn’t know how, and Bucky felt so far away already, even though he hadn’t left yet, even though Steve still had him for one more night.

That was the thing, though. Steve’d never really had him.  

Bucky took off his boots and put them by the door. He stayed there, staring at the carpet beneath his toes for a long time. Steve couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

“Bucky,” he said quietly.

Bucky didn’t look at him, so Steve padded over to him, touching his elbow gently. Bucky turned away from him and Steve could see his throat work in a swallow.  

And for the first time since the war started, Steve saw scared Bucky-the-boy instead of proud Bucky-the-soldier. The lines of his shoulders were slumped, bent like he was too tired of standing straight. Steve had never seen it before, too busy fighting and pushing, and maybe Bucky hadn’t wanted him to see.

“Can we go to bed?” he asked. He tugged on Bucky’s arm and waited. When Bucky didn’t move, he implored, “Please. Buck.”

Bucky looked at him. His eyes held the slightest hint of red around the edges but he was again giving Steve that cock-sure grin and trying for a lightness in his tone that Steve knew was forced. “Yeah. I’ll take you to bed. Anything for you, sweetheart.”

“Bucky.”

“Steve.”

“Stop joking.”

“What am I joking about? You said you wanted to go to bed.” His lips curved and he put his hands on Steve’s hips, nudging him backwards.  

Steve let him, because he liked Bucky’s hands on him, but he also didn’t want to fight with Bucky. He tucked his nose against Bucky’s throat and Bucky tumbled them into bed, wrapped his arms around Steve and held him tight.

Steve wanted to tell him. _I got in. They’re giving me a chance._ But the words got all tangled up in his head, and it would start a fight.

Instead, Bucky breathed into his hair and held on almost too-tight, and Steve let him for as long as he needed.

After a long time spent laying in silence, Bucky finally said, “You’re gonna take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, Buck.”

“You’re gonna eat.”

“Yeah, Buck.”

“And sleep. And not work yourself to death.”

“Bucky. We’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Steve could feel his frown in response and he just tucked Steve closer, curled around his back and nuzzled his face to the bony curve of Steve’s shoulder. They didn’t usually do this, outside of heats. Sometimes, when the nights were cold, or Steve was sick, but never with this much …

Steve could feel Bucky breathing against his skin, warm huffs of breath that sent shivers down his spine.

And if this was the last time he was going to see Bucky, he was going to take it. He fell asleep with his hands wrapped around Bucky’s, tucked safely against him.

* * *

 

The next time Steve saw Bucky, he was strapped to a table in Hydra’s lab, half delirious. It felt like a sucker-punch, but also like relief. A sort of painful release of breath when Bucky’s cracked voice came out. “Thought you were smaller.”  

Everyone got out safely, but god, Steve didn’t think much about anyone other than Bucky. The long trudge back to camp, Steve walked at Bucky’s shoulder, until after a while, Bucky snapped, “Stop your goddamned hovering.”

“I’m not hovering. I’m just trying to make sure you’re not going to drop.”

“I’m fine to get back to camp.”

“Yeah. And then after we’re back?”

Bucky grumbled something, and Steve let it go. He stayed close, but tried not to hover.  

By that evening, everyone from behind enemy lines had been fed and gotten the medical attention they needed. Before Steve had been pulled away, he’d pushed Bucky in the direction of a cluster of medical tents and given him a significant look. He spent a few hours giving all the information he could and drawing out maps and talking tactics. He tried to finish quickly, but when he was done, it was dark.

He found Bucky with a handful of the men Steve recognized from the rescue, all alphas or betas. They waved him over and welcomed him with a glass of alcohol shoved in his direction. Bucky sat across the scarred wood table from him and grinned, and Steve grinned at Bucky who was impossibly here, and he thought they might just be untouchable.

In the early hours of the morning, when the group finally dispersed, Steve caught Bucky when he stumbled over himself, a few too many drinks in. “Ow, fuck, Rogers,” Bucky muttered, pushing away Steve’s arm where it had caught him round the middle.

“What? Are you hurt? I left you in Medical, didn’t they patch you up?”

One of the men, who’d introduced himself as Dum-Dum scoffed and said, “Barnes didn’t spend three seconds in the medical tents.”

“What?” Steve asked.

“Hey, Dugan?” Bucky said, but it was still tinted with good humor. “Fuck off.”

“Hey, no need to get prickly, Barnes,” said another of the men, Morita. The group chuckled, and Bucky swore at them.

“Alright, Bucky, come on.” Steve pulled him gently away and got him stumbling toward the exit.

Once outside, Bucky insisted belligerently, “I ain’t going to the fucking doctors here.”

“Buck, if you’re hurt --.”

“I don’t fucking want to.”

“I got that.”

A beat of quiet. “Don’t make me.”

Steve’s throat hurt. “Bucky. I’m not going to.”

“And I’m not fucking going to sleep yet, don’t take me to the fucking barracks.”

“I was taking you to my bed. And you do have to sleep at some point, Buck.”

“Fine,” Bucky said after stumbling a few steps. “Fine, but people can _hear_ us, Steve.” Bucky gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You gotta be quiet.”

“ _Bucky_ we’re not _—_ ” They finally approached Steve’s small tent, and Bucky wheeled on him.

“And you!” he started on a new track, jumping rails so quickly Steve had to pause for a minute and catch up. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He nudged Bucky inside the tent, trying to function over his surprise and just get Bucky inside. Bucky stumbled and grabbed onto Steve for balance, hands twisting in Steve’s shirt. “What am I doing?” Steve asked.

“You joined up, you fucking dick.” Bucky stared at him for a few seconds, like he was processing. “I wanted you to stay home. Stay safe. I wanted — after the war, you know? — But fuck you, what even happened to you?”

Steve smoothed his hands down Bucky’s sides. He’d expected the interrogation, but maybe not a drunk interrogation. Instead of soothing Bucky, the gesture seemed to aggravate him, and Steve belatedly thought, _oh, he’s hurt._ And shit, he wished Bucky would let a doctor look at him. “We already had this fight. You know why I had to join, Buck.”

Bucky glared at him, and then surged up on the balls of his feet and pressed his nose to the underside of Steve’s jaw, nosing his scent gland and inhaling. He made deep rumbly growls with every exhale, discontent. Steve’s arms came up and wrapped tightly around Bucky before he could think about it, and warmth and pleasure spread from where Bucky’s face pressed to his throat, hot breath against his skin.

“You smell awful. What the fuck did they do?” Bucky grumbled.

“Suppressants,” Steve said, quietly. “No one’s supposed to know.” Steve’s eyes went half-lidded and his head tilted back when Bucky sucked on a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. A small moan escaped him before he formed words. “Bucky. You can’t tell anyone I’m not a null. Okay?”

“I’m not fucking dumb, Rogers.” Bucky pushed, palms flat on his chest. “Lie down.”

Steve let Bucky push him down onto the cot, feverish with the feeling of Bucky’s hands all over him, Bucky pressed against him. He ended up with Bucky straddling his hips, slowly grinding their hips together until Steve was burning with it. Steve only had a mind to protest as Bucky sucked a kiss over a mark of indented teeth he’d made on Steve’s neck, which made him moan softly but also sparked enough awareness that he muttered, “Buck, can’t mark me. Stop biting.”

Bucky just growled, sound vibrating through Steve’s chest. “Yeah, I know,” Steve breathed. “But come on, you can’t.” Bucky pulled back and stared down at Steve, pupils blown wide and dark, breathing a little too fast. Steve put his hands on Bucky’s hips to steady him. Bucky’s hands were shaking and he was looking down at Steve like he wasn’t seeing him.

Bucky pressed his palm to Steve’s chest. “They made you different.” His voice was barely a whisper out of his chest.

In response, Steve threaded his hand in Bucky’s hair and pulled him down, slotting their mouths together. He pressed against Bucky’s lips, licked into his mouth. Felt Bucky responding a little more coherently, answering and pushing back against Steve.

Steve broke the kiss. “Still taste like me?” he murmured. Bucky nodded, barely separating their lips, and then he licked into Steve’s mouth again. They stayed like that, Bucky’s body trapping Steve’s down, tasting him, rubbing him with his hand until Steve was shuddering and clutching at him. Bucky muffled his sounds as he came, and then kissed him quiet.

Steve rubbed his hands up Bucky’s back, scratching gently with his nails. No more words were exchanged between them, and Bucky fell asleep, deep and heavy.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I'm having a ton of fun writing this. I hope you're enjoying reading. Kudos and comments feed me, I love them! Let me know if you'd like to see anything in particular and I'll take it into consideration. (:

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! So this is a work in progress. I have about half of it written, but I welcome feedback on what you'd like to see included! I'll try to update at least every other week so I'll be back soon.


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